


I Fell Out of a Daydream

by Melodious329



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(pre-movie AU fusion with Dark Angel, though it’s not necessary to have seen the show)  X5-621 is not a man.  He’s a mutant genetically engineered to be a supersoldier by a secret government agency, code-named Manticore.  His latest mission is with the Losers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Fell Out of a Daydream

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I made Jensen look like the military ID that is briefly shown in the movie for this fic. Also, I suck at writing the mission/case, just so you know. 
> 
> Spanish words used (taken from babelfish): extrano (crazy), brujeria (witchcraft), idiota (idiot), infierno (hellhole)

X5- 621 carefully reads over the file on the table. Seated at a small table in an empty room, still he knows that his handlers are watching him. He’s always watched.

He keeps his breath slow and even despite his racing thoughts. This is his second solo mission, and his last chance, he knows. He won’t survive another reprogramming. He can’t afford to make another mistake, not after last time.

His mind skitters away from that time, trying not to think about why he failed and what happened after. He forces himself to focus on the papers in front of him. Jacob Jensen, it says. His new alias and the name of the young Army recruit that he’ll have to get rid of. He’s a tech in the Special Forces and he’s about to be loaned to a small team, nicknamed The Losers, codenamed Pinball. 

He looks over each team member’s file: pictures, histories, strengths and weaknesses. Fitting in with them is necessary to achieve his objective and he’s meant to study them like prey. They’re simply obstacles to him, to proving himself a capable operative. It’s strange for him to read about their friends and family when he can barely remember what life outside of Manticore is even like. He’s only seen the world outside once before.  
***************************  
X5-621, now Jake Jensen, walks through the military base holding his assignment papers. He keeps his steps easy and loose instead of the quick paces that he learned in Manticore. He’s done his best over the past two days to prepare for this mission, trying to become what will be expected of a geeky tech. 

Needing to camouflage the fact that he’s a little big for the average geek, he’s chosen a bright yellow tshirt with binary code on it. He really likes it, likes the color instead of the grey they always wear at Manticore. They buzzed his hair and let a little shadow grow on his chin to go with the round glasses he stole from the real Jake Jensen. 

It’s one thing to look the part, to study the files, but it’s quite another to be out in the world, no walls or cells, nothing but sky and people. These people don’t have a clue what he is in their midst. He looks around at all of them and feels entirely separate, like he’s still peering out from his small cell. They stand around in groups talking to one another, smiling, frowning, laughing, touching. 

Reaching the barracks of his new team, he enters quickly, not wanting to be seen to be dawdling. Inside is a cramped common area and his eyes immediately track to an older man with stubble that shows just a hint of premature grey. Colonel Clay, his new CO. Jensen steps up, falling easily into military rest as he holds out his transfer papers. 

Colonel Clay doesn’t even look at the paper. Slowly, he looks up at Jensen and then steps away from the even larger black man he was speaking with. SIC William Roque, Jensen’s brain supplies. The Colonel moves around the desk where Jensen can see his altered file open. A thick finger jabs downward at the papers. 

“It says here that you are one of the best…at whatever it is you techs do, but you mostly sit behind a desk,” Colonel Clay starts, eyes staring straight into Jensen’s eyes as if waiting for Jensen to flinch. “This is a field mission and I need to know that you’re ready.”

“Ready, sir,” Jensen says firmly, dropping the paper to his side. 

Clay hesitates then, his expression becoming curious, looking past the disguise. Jensen breaks into a silly grin to break the moment. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jensen equivocates. “I’m always prepared,” he says lifting his two duffel bags of gear, “Just like the boy scouts.”

He can see that the more that he talks the less they see him, the less suspicion shows on their faces and more dismissal. “Did you know the boy scouts are modeled on a British organization? Who knew that the British had any survival skills to learn from, right?”

“Are you hearing this? What is this, Jeopardy?” SIC Roque asks, taking a step towards Jensen though his face is turned towards Clay. “Why’n the fuck are you still talking!” the big man gets right up in his face for the last part.

Jensen doesn’t flinch. He was screamed at by bigger men when he was eight. For a moment, he’s frozen, sure that the others will see and know that he’s a fake, that he’s not at all a simple tech. But the SIC is too busy being angry to really see him.

“Don’t talk. Just get to work already,” Roque roars before turning away, obviously used to being obeyed without question. He walks away into one of the other rooms, bedrooms presumably. 

Colonel Clay snorts a little in amusement, focused more on his SIC walking away than the new guy. Jensen’s a little surprised as the Colonel simply waves him further into the room. It feels a little like he’s intruding, like when his trainers discussed his performance like he wasn’t there. He’s just a tool for the mission and not a part of them, the Losers. 

Past the desk, Jensen can now see a round card table, currently only being used to prop up a pair of boots attached to a relaxed looking man wearing a cowboy hat. But Jensen can tell that the sniper only looks casual. 

“You can set up your stuff here,” Clay says, gesturing to the table. “This here’s Cougar,” he says sweeping the man’s long legs from the table, “And that over there is Pooch.” 

Another black man sits with his chair leaning back against the wall cleaning a car part, and he gives Jensen a casual wave and goes back to the magazine balanced on his thighs. These two don’t seem to be any more concerned with power plays than the colonel. The sniper only lifts his head enough to give a small glare at his legs being disturbed. 

These two may not be interested in power plays, but they’re still too interested in him, the outsider, and the words are spilling out again without conscious thought. “Do you all have pet names?” Jensen asks, cheekily even as he puts down his bag and starts taking out electronics. “What can mine be? Ooh, how about mongoose? Or snow leopard? That’s not as catchy.”

Jensen can’t see under the hat, but he thinks that Cougar’s not distracted by his ramblings. He can feel man’s full attention like a weight on the back of his neck. Now that Jensen is looking, he’s distracted by the glimpse of full lips and long silky dark hair.

“You don’t need a nickname,” Roque comes back into the room, causing Jensen to duck his face away from the sniper. “You’re not staying.”

With those final words, Roque goes out the front door and out into the base. Jensen is starting to like this babbling that pisses the SIC off. At Manticore, things are always quiet. If the X-5s are allowed to talk, they might plan something, a rebellion, an escape. They haven’t been allowed to talk openly to one another since Jensen was half his current age. But it’s not as if talking distracts Jensen from setting up the equipment and starting work online. He can certainly do both at the same time.

Jensen pushes the glasses back up his nose with a finger. “Or maybe tiger? Are we going with a cat theme?” he laughs a little to himself. 

Tiger would be the appropriate nickname since he, in fact, does have feline DNA among other things. He feels comfortable now with the deception, that they won’t hear anything if he lets the truth slip a little. “Did you know they can breed a tiger and a lion? They call it a liger. It’s like they created a mutant, this huge beast built for…”

“Jesus Christ,” Colonel Clay suddenly bursts out, but Jensen can hear the humor still beneath the exasperation. “Do you ever shut up?”

Jensen just grins, meeting the man’s dark eyes as his fingers still fly across the keyboard. 

“Are you really working?” Clay asks, sounding almost horrified. Then he just shakes his head and rubs his forehead with a hand. “Nevermind, just…you better be as good as they say.”

Clay’s voice and face are serious again. It stirs something in Jensen’s chest, something different than the apathetic faces of his trainers in Manticore who were only proud of themselves when he succeeded. 

“Better than good,” Jensen says, his mouth running faster to cover any of these feelings. “I am so good that they won’t know what hit them, what hit you. I am faster, smarter, better looking…like secret experiment good. Like they injected me with…”

He’d swear that Cougar smirks then, just a tightening around his cheeks to give the emotion away before Clay interrupts in a lighter voice. “Ok, ok, forget I asked. But know I will kill you if you fuck up.”

His face is more relaxed but the message has definitely been received that he’s serious about protecting his team. Jensen just chuckles flatly. “Like I haven’t heard that before,” he mumbles, trying not to think about how much Clay obviously cares about these men. He knew they were a team, but he didn’t expect them to actually like each other.

“C’mon Pooch,” Clay says finally turning away. “Let’s go check out our ride.”

Pooch stands up to follow the colonel out. Jensen expects Cougar to find someplace else to be too, but the sniper just slowly puts his feet back on the table away from the equipment like he’s going to take a nap. 

“Well, I guess it’s just the two of us,” Jensen starts again. “Wow, is he protective or what?”

He doesn’t even expect an answer and he doesn’t get one. Talking may have started as a defense against their suspicions, now it’s a defense against his own emotions. He doesn’t want to think about making Clay proud, and he has no idea when he stopped thinking of the man as the Colonel. And he certainly doesn’t want  
to think about how his breath comes faster knowing Cougar is still watching him. 

It’s just like last time, he thinks hysterically. It’s easy to think of the mission when he’s just looking at files or when training with the other X-5s. Before he didn’t realize there was a world outside, didn’t even think of escaping. But when he’s out here, among other ordinaries, it’s hard to find that level of clarity. 

He’s got enough information stored in his brain to talk all day, though. “Did you know they also interbreed zebras and horses and donkeys. Zebroids, zonkey, Zorse,” he says chuckling. “Even though Zebras have only 34-40 chromosomes and horses have 64. It’s like nature telling us, don’t go there, but we do it anyway…” 

Cougar doesn’t leave, but Jensen is pretty sure the other man isn’t sleeping. It’s disconcerting for Jensen to actually be listened to. 

*********************

Clay and the others eventually come back with a ton of food, Chinese in little white cartons. Jensen has never had Chinese food. All the X-5s are fed tasteless, nutritionally complete meals out of packages. He’s never tasted anything like this and he piles his plate up. 

He’s completely engrossed in his food when the sound of a choked off laugh filters in his consciousness. Looking up he sees Pooch choking as he tries to laugh and swallow at the same time. 

“No, don’t,” Clay says smiling too. “He’s finally stopped talking, don’t ruin it, Pooch.”

He realizes then that everyone is looking at him laughing and he looks down only then realizing how much he’s actually eaten. He feels a little stupid about it despite  
that they’re all laughing. He can’t help licking his fingers to get the grease from an eggroll, but he happens to catch Cougar’s eyes as he’s sucking. Cougar’s stare is dark and heated beneath the brim of his hat. Slowly, he draws his finger out of his mouth, hot lust and cold fear running down his spine both. 

“Where does he put it?” Pooch asks, cackling. 

Roque suddenly pulls out a huge knife and slams the point down into the table. “Do we have to talk about everything this fool does?”

Jensen opens his mouth to say something when Roque slams his hand this time and says, “Shut up!”

Jensen just grins at him. He can tell that the SIC is getting even more pissed that he’s not afraid of the angry displays, but it seems to endear him to the rest of the team. He figures that many of the other tech guys they’ve worked with have been in mortal fear of Roque’s outbursts. Though, he finds it pretty funny that the disobedience that got him punished all the time is actually helping him fit in on this mission. 

Clay stands up then, taking his plate to the trash. Jensen is considering having another serving when he feels a light touch on the back of his neck. Jensen’s heart leaps in his chest, banging against his ribs. He hasn’t thought about it. At Manticore, it’s just something that everyone has and so he hasn’t thought to hide it. 

“Nice tattoo,” Clay says dryly. “How stereotypical, much like that tshirt.”

Confused faces stare at Clay as he sits down again. “Barcode,” Clay explains. 

Pooch whoops with laughter again while Roque’s face becomes actually amused. Jensen wouldn’t believe it if he weren’t staring at the man. 

“Seriously?” Roque asks, smile spreading across his lips like an alligator. He looks like he was just given a gift. “Of course you do.”

Clay leans back in his chair, dimples on full display. “Is it like an initiation? Into geekdom?”  
Pooch laughs louder and then tries to control himself long enough to speak. “How do you explain that to women, dude?”

Jensen finally manages to relax, to smile a little. His eyes flit over to Cougar who is the only one who doesn’t seem amused. 

“C’mon guys,” he tries. “I was young, and stupid.”

“Were?” Clay asks. “How old do you think you are now, kid?”

Jensen laughs. “Hey, I’ve done a lot in my years,” he says. “Besides you cannot tell me that none of you have a tattoo you regret.” His eyes scan over the table. “Does Cougar have a cougar somewhere? Pooch, do you have a…”

He can see the answer on the mechanic’s face before he finishes the question. “You do!” he crows.

Pooch scowls as the tables turn and suddenly all of the focus is on him. “Fuck you all. Aren’t we supposed to be going over the intel?” Pooch deflects. “Mission tomorrow?”

Clay laughs darkly, promising later teasing, even as the others begin cleaning up some. Jensen snags another egg roll because he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so good before. With his other hand, he starts pulling up the satellite images of the site on the small tablet that he pushes over to Clay. While Clay looks at it, Jensen stuffs the last of the food in his mouth and wipes his hands on his pants. He takes a second tablet to pull up some other views. 

Everyone is quieter now, finally serious as Clay lays out the plan of attack. Even Jensen is serious, but not for the same reasons they are. He’s not afraid of failure or injury. He’s not afraid of the enemy they’ll face. He’s afraid of himself, of the choice he has to make. He is their enemy. Like some kind of leech, he soaks up their attention desperately, clings to them, and then sucks them dry. 

But then he thinks about being dragged back to Manticore after failing again. They won’t just kill him. The X-5s are too valuable. They’ll make another attempt to reprogram him, or just keep him for experiments. A chill goes down his spine when he tries to think of worse punishments than what he’s already experienced. But even without the threat of punishment, he hates the idea of living in his cell again knowing now about everything that’s out of his reach. 

“Ok, guys, I’m gonna get some sleep. Be up at oh-five hundred hours,” Clay interrupts Jensen’s thoughts. 

Slowly Clay stands up rubbing his hand tiredly over his salt n’ pepper stubble. He stops by Jensen’s chair, speaking to the back of his head. “You’ll share a room with Cougar. It’s the third door on the left.”

Jensen just nods in answer, suddenly unsure what to do with himself as the team breaks up. Unconsciously, he finds himself looking over at Cougar for a clue. The sniper doesn’t look back, but he answers all the same when he instead leans over and grabs a nearby case, unzipping it to reveal his rifle. 

Jensen grabs his laptop out, trying to think of something to occupy himself, when his attention is brought back to the way Cougar is cleaning his rifle. Slowly, lovingly, long fingers dance up the length of the barrel. It’s too much and Jensen flushes, his whole body suddenly feeling hot in a way that he’s never felt before. Confused, Jensen coughs a little as he stares hard at the laptop, trying to scare off his inappropriate thoughts. 

Lust dies when he realizes then, of course, that his handler is waiting for him. Quickly, he makes contact, sending details the timeline. The plan is simple. Remove all traces of Manticore’s research and take out the witnesses, all of the witnesses. 

Pooch lets out a low chuckle as he and Roque get up from the table. Jensen wasn’t paying attention to what they’re talking about, but it’s something that has Roque pulling out yet another knife to pantomime some part of the story as they head outside of the barracks. 

Feeling uncomfortably like he’s spying, Jensen turns back to his laptop. He knows that the device is undoubtedly being monitored, but he has to take advantage of the momentary freedom. Just for fun, he starts to hack some of the military records of anyone associated with the Losers, but he stays far away from anything that could have to do with Manticore. He barely notices when he starts to talk along the way, thoughts that he normally keeps inside flowing over his lips. 

“C’mon sugar, that’s it,” Jensen coaxes the program. He can feel Cougar’s attention on him again, but he doesn’t think it’s strange to talk to inanimate objects. He’s spent most of his life alone and sometimes he just needs some kinda interaction, even if it’s inside his head. “Yes, right…there, baby, God, that’s so good,” Jensen continues, only then realizing the connotation of what he’s saying. 

Cougar’s hands have gone still on the rifle, but Jensen refuses to look at the other man’s face, not wanting to see either rejection or acceptance. He focuses firmly on the laptop, his own fingers also still as he tries to think of something else to talk about. “Geez, you’d think good ol’ Uncle Sam would secure this better. A third grader could get in here. Well, I could do it as a…a toddler, but that’s because I’m me,” he chuckles to himself. 

It’s late when Cougar stands and Jensen does too automatically. When Cougar pauses, Jensen realizes that it might be a little strange to follow the sniper everywhere, but then Cougar simply lifts his chin in recognition and then leads him to their room. Cougar motions for him to go first into the bathroom. 

Cougar leaves when he returns and Jensen gets undressed down to his tshirt and boxers in the empty room. The glasses, he carefully places on the nearby table. The bed is standard issue, single cot with a thin mattress and dark green blanket that reminds Jensen forcefully of his bed back in his cell at Manticore. 

When Cougar comes in, he turns off the overhead light immediately, but Jensen can still see perfectly in the low light. He lies curled on his side and watches through his eyelashes as Cougar takes off his hat, laying it reverently on the bedpost. He wonders if Cougar can feel his stare as he takes in the sniper’s long hair, a dark sweep over the man’s shoulders as the overshirt is whisked away. Jensen’s eyes track over the sharp muscular lines of the other man’s back as the tank top is pulled off. Slowly, Cougar turns around, elegant hands reaching for the button of his pants and Jensen is holding his breath, forcing his body into stillness. 

Jensen’s eyes immediately follow the dark trail of hair down the taut belly before Cougar is sitting down on the bed, his dick fat inside his own loose boxers with no stimulation needed. He’s seen other men naked before and he’s had sex before. The X-5s are trained to use sex if needed, but this tightness low in his belly, this heat on his skin is so much different than when Jensen is forced into the cell of his newest mating partner. He’s barely been able to masturbate unperturbed and now here is this beautiful sculpted Adonis in front of him who looks back at him with lust in dark eyes. 

It’s like a physical ache being across the room. Jensen’s enhanced senses can too clearly hear the other man breathe, smell the scent of him, musk and sweat and gun oil. He can only lie there surrounded by the other man but so far away, locked inside his own fear of his desires. 

It’s a long night.  
*********

It’s still dark when they wake up. Jensen shuts off the alarm with a groan and only barely remembers to grab his glasses, slapping them on his face as he crawls out of his cot. Across the room, he sees Cougar getting up as well, looking adorably rumpled with his chest still bare, but Jensen quickly turns his face away. He dresses with his back turned to the other man, facing his cot where his duffel bag lies. The clothes are much the same as any X-5 would wear, green tee and camo pants, boots and belt. Jensen slides on his tak vest and buckles the throat mike carefully, knowing that Manticore is certainly monitoring his channel. 

He packs the clothes he wore yesterday, including his brightly colored tshirt in the second duffel, the duffel that he leaves on the bed. He knows he won’t be back for it and he is strangely disappointed by the thought. 

“I fucking hate rainforests,” Jensen complains, following Cougar again. “It’s so hot and it rains all the time. Rainforests get more than 80 inches a year, 80 inches!” Jensen reiterates in disgust. “And the bugs and the....” 

He trails off into silence as Cougar turns to look straight at him then, not hiding under the hat. Jensen is sure that he’s driven the man to the end of his rope, in less than 24 hours. He got carried away, the words flowing out like he’s been saving them up. Opening his mouth, Jensen searches for something to say, anything to just fix it, when Cougar gives him a small smirk. Jensen lets out his breath and smiles back a little shakily. 

Cougar’s voice, when he speaks, is a soft and low-pitched growl, “How do you know these things?” 

The sound is still washing over Jensen as the sniper walks past out the door. Hesitating a moment, Jensen feels the relief like a physical weight on his chest and knows he’s in much too deep. Smiling for real now, he rushes out of the room trying to keep up. 

They have to wait for the bathroom. And then he’s rushing to grab all of his tablets as the others are already prepared. Once they board the plane, though, there’s nothing to do but eating powerbars for breakfast as the sun rises outside the windows. 

Jensen chatters through all of it, squished against Cougar who’s the only one who doesn’t suddenly find somewhere else to be, across the plane. Once they’re on the ground though, it’s only more traveling, this time Pooch driving them through the jungle in a Hummer. 

The team seems to come alive during the journey, almost like waking up, the mission stirring their blood. The mood is infectious, even though he doesn’t understand it. He’s been raised for combat, has spent most of his life never knowing any different, but he wouldn’t think that people would choose the danger and the violence. He wonders if maybe it wasn’t a choice for them either. 

Jensen plays with their radios to keep his hands busy, seeing if he can pick up any channels their targets might be using. He’s picking at it with a paperclip when an unknown voice comes across, though it’s broken and difficult to hear. Carefully, he tweaks it until they can hear the channel clearly. The voice is speaking in Spanish which Jensen remembers is not a language that his alias is meant to know. He holds his tongue and angles the radio more toward Cougar to translate. 

“They’re leaving,” Cougar says haltingly. “They’re taking the hard drive.”

For a moment, Jensen can’t comprehend the information, so caught up in the smooth timbre of the sniper’s voice. Then it dawns on him that their mission has just been diverted. Grabbing his duffel, he pulls out his laptop and starts pulling up satellite images. 

“They’re already on the move, further north,” he says a moment later, his fingers flying as he pulls up another satellite image. “Looks like it’s another temporary location.” It’ll mean more driving, another day at least, Jensen figures. “There’s a safe house, further on, it’ll put us near the border.”

The guys are frustrated at postponing the mission. By the time that they make it to the safehouse, Roque has pulled out five knives, threatening to kill Jensen with each if he doesn’t shut up. Pooch is yelling at pretty much everyone that he has a date he needs to get back to. Still Jensen manages to upload some information onto one of the tablet which he hands off to the Colonel as he runs inside the safehouse, seeking safety from Roque. 

Pooch is screaming after them, “Hey, come back here and help me cover this!” But just like during the drive, everyone is absolutely ignoring him as they grab their gear and go inside. 

Jensen is already setting up his stuff on the kitchen table as Clay walks in, his face is strangely calm as he looks at the tablet. Jensen watches him from the table with trepidation at the man’s sudden change in demeanor. 

“Good work,” he says shortly, gesturing with the tablet in one hand. 

It’s an offhand comment it seems, no different than a hundred other indifferent words by his Manticore trainers, but it hits Jensen like a punch in the gut. It shouldn’t matter to him, none of this should. It’s a role, and he knows that all of them would hate him if they knew. It’ll be over all too soon anyway. 

The others haven’t noticed anything strange at all and Clay moves on to commandeer the best chair in this place, still staring at the information. Jensen hesitates a moment before pulling out his own MRE pack for dinner. He suddenly feels like he’d rather be alone and keeps his eyes to himself as the conversation goes on around him. The others play a game of cards after eating, but Jensen begs off. Before the mission, he learned a dozen card games, even a few tricks to distract them with, but no one objects when he grabs his laptop and heads off. 

There are two very small bedrooms in the back, but he retreats to the front room that Cougar and he will share. They’ll be sleeping on the floor, not that it matters to Jensen, but it’s the only other room with a table and chair for his laptop. 

The mission won’t be put off again, he knows. It’s somehow easier to contemplate what he must do when he is away from the others. With them, he thinks that he would do absolutely anything to stay here, to belong here. 

He thinks he remembers, the last time that he was in medical back at Manticore. They were never told what drugs they were given, what the experiment was for. But he remembers being able to just reach out to the next bed. He remembers his searching fingers finding a hand that he held then, wanting the connection against the pain. It only lasted a moment before they were seen, and punished, but still he remembers it, the last time that he was able to touch another transgenic in comfort. 

Standing abruptly, Jensen shakes off the thoughts, because there’s absolutely no happy ending to this, not for him. Instead lays out his bed roll and starts stripping. It’s hot enough here that he takes everything off but his boxers. But as he contemplates sleeping, he finds that he can’t quite bring himself to lie down. He goes back to the table instead, still in just his shorts and begins to monitor the satellite and radio channels. He doesn’t know how long he sits there buried in finding as much information as possible even if most of it is useless. 

Until Cougar comes in, silent as any man that Jensen has ever known. It’s only then that he realizes how late it must be because he cannot hear the others. Cougar is looking at him from across the room, looking at his bare chest. 

Jensen himself can’t bring himself to look away from Cougar’s intense stare as the other man stalks forward. His heart thunders in his chest and he knows he shouldn’t. Jesus Christ, one of them will probably be dead tomorrow, but that just makes him want it more desperately, that he knows he’s going to lose this. 

Barely remembering to take off his glasses, he lays them aside on the table before pressing his face to the crotch of Cougar’s pants and slipping off his chair to his knees. He can smell the musk of Cougar’s sex through the material, but he’s pulling off Cougar’s belt quickly and pulling down both pants and boxers in one motion. Cougar sucks in a breath at his eagerness, but gets with the program and pulls off his shirt even as Jensen’s hand is skimming low on his belly. 

Jensen breathes on the head of the cock in front of him, taking the time to savor the moment as he wraps one hand around the base, heat and soft skin. His tongue flattens as he licks under the head and then pushes into the slit until Cougar sucks in another breath. Only then does he take the head into his mouth, sucking hard. 

Cougar’s hand enters his peripheral vision, reaching out for something to hold onto but finding nothing. Jensen sighs, relaxing his throat as Cougar’s hand lands on the back of his neck, surprisingly gentle. Taking the cock deeper, he grips Cougar’s muscular thigh as he lets the length fill his mouth and then his throat. He keeps pushing until his nose is buried in dark coarse hair, desperate to get as close as possible. Cougar’s abs tighten when he swallows reflexively. 

Jensen’s tongue swipes under the head of Cougar’s cock as he pulls off, feeling Cougar’s hand running through the short hairs on the back of his neck. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, this is already too far, but he wants…

He looks up briefly, sees Cougar still wearing his hat, but his face is slack, mouth open, finally relaxed. Jensen has to look away before he forces himself to speak. “Fuck me,” he says, turning his face into Cougar’s hip and biting the thin, sensitive skin there. “C’mon, fuck me. I want it,” he says again, desperation seeping into his voice before he flattens his face into Cougar’s skin. 

Cougar hesitates. Jensen gets it, he does. He knows the nature of these quick encounters, knows about DADT. It’s asking a lot, a lot of intimacy with a man he just met, a lot of risk if they’re caught with the others sleeping in the same house. It’s one thing to exchange handjobs or even blow jobs, just two guys getting off with no women available. Fucking is something else. 

Jensen’s about to just forget it, just take Cougar’s cock in his mouth and finish it, take what he can get, when the hand tightens on the back of his neck and then Cougar’s rough voice says, “Yeah, ok. Get up.”

Jensen stands immediately, but Cougar’s hands are already forceful on his hips, pushing him to turn, pushing him down face first onto the table. Jensen understands as he pushes his own boxers down and leans on his elbows. Turning his face, he sees Cougar is not behind him. He’s over at his bag, getting a condom, something Jensen hadn’t even considered. 

Pushing his ass out instinctively, the light touch on his hip is almost as hot as the slick finger tracing the ridges of his hole. He would swear that he can feel the heat of Cougar behind him and he pushes back, wanting to feel that skin all over him when the grip on his hip bone tightens almost painfully. It almost distracts him from the slim finger breaching him. 

Jensen bites his lip on any triumphant sounds and pushes up further on his hands, arching his body towards the other man, asking for more with his whole body. He can feel the brush of Cougar’s skin against his as a second finger is added. It’s only the slightest stretch and not at all what he wants as he rolls his hips down, riding Cougar’s fingers. 

“I’m ready. Fuck, do it,” Jensen says as he stretches out over the table top. 

Lying on his belly, he reaches out to grab the other side of the table as there’s a blunt pressure on his hole. It feels huge, but Jensen wants to feel it all, the sudden stretch and burn, as his hole slowly yields. Cougar’s hand is on his back, weight keeping him still, but Jensen lifts his face and bites his own bicep to keep quiet. 

There’s a pause and then Cougar’s hands slide back down, curving around Jensen’s hipbones as he starts thrusting shallowly. A sound leeches out of Jensen’s stuffed mouth, but fortunately it doesn’t spook Cougar. The sniper shifts and then begins to thrust in earnest, deep inside Jensen who can only angle his ass further back. 

Jensen starts to writhe, trying to push back into each thrust. Pushing up further onto his elbows changes the angle to hit his prostate and brings his back into sudden contact with Cougar’s chest. But Cougar doesn’t push him away, back down. Cougar leans on Jensen’s back, letting Jensen feel the slick heat of his skin, the curve of Cougar’s belly fitting in the dip of Jensen’s back. 

Feeling Cougar’s coarse facial hair on his shoulder, Jensen instinctively turns his face towards the sensation before Cougar’s arm is across his chest, grabbing his opposite shoulder. Cougar is pulling him back into the thrusts and Jensen rocks his hips back hard. It’s even harder to keep quiet now, with the thrusts pounding his prostate and setting off white bursts behind his eyelids, pressure sparking pleasure in his abdomen. Jensen bites his lip hard as his hands hold up both their weight on the table. His own cock bounces between his legs. 

His orgasm building, tingling through his entire groin, he grabs onto his bouncing cock, tugging it, lost in all of the sensations. His muscles straining, he jerks his hips back as he cums, shaking with the pleasure that runs through him and onto the stupid plastic table top. He starts to sag immediately, Cougar’s weight following him down, crushing him into the plastic at first. Then the weight is gone and Cougar’s hands move back to his hips, thrusting faster into Jensen’s now sensitive hole. 

There’s no rhythm as Cougar slams into him, fingers digging into his hipbones. Jensen lets his body be rocked on the table until Cougar’s grunting and stiffening, cock so deep that Jensen’s mouth opens on a soundless cry of pain. 

And then Cougar is pulling out, stepping away, his heat suddenly gone. Jensen thinks about following, but he’s not sure how to get up. It’s not a feeling that he’s used to. But his body doesn’t betray him as he forces himself to straighten up. It’s so hot that the sweat isn’t even cooling his skin. Standing, Jensen isn’t sure what to do now. This is nothing like any experience he’s had before and he feels suddenly vulnerable, laid bare by his eagerness.

Movement has Jensen looking up from the table in time to grab the rag that Cougar pushes at him. He wipes up the table with it gratefully. When he turns back, Cougar is already wearing boxers and climbing into his sleeping bag. Jensen takes the hint. There’s no possibility of a shower, but he puts on his own boxers and goes to the bathroom for a leak and a quick cleanup. 

There’s no movement from Cougar’s sleeping bag as Jensen returns and climbs into his own. Despite that he can’t help staring across the room at the other man’s bundled form instead of sleeping. He doesn’t regret asking for more, and it helped him make a decision. His only regret is that he’ll never feel like this again.  
***************

Jensen wakes feeling strangely more alone than ever. He doesn’t exactly know why because when he opens his eyes, he’s not alone. Cougar is across the room, beginning to disentangle himself from his own sleeping bag, but even the smell of the sniper still on his skin doesn’t fill the hole that seems to be gaping in Jensen’s chest. By the time he forces himself to sit up, Cougar is already getting dressed, tying on his boots and checking his bag. Jensen fumbles around, hands searching before remembering he left the glasses on the table. 

He doesn’t know whether he should be shy of showing his body to the other man the morning after so he pulls his boxers into the sleeping bag before emerging and throwing the rest of his clothes on. He can hear the others, talking in the main room, Pooch laughing. Cougar doesn’t seem to notice when he retrieves the glasses. 

Jensen can’t help crowding even closer than usual to Cougar when they exit the room. His attention is so taken with the sniper that it takes him a minute to register the silence from the others. Taking in their staring, he wonders what secret they’ve uncovered about him before it dawns on him. 

Clay doesn’t acknowledge the tension, only saying “Let’s go,” in that voice that makes Jensen want to live up to all of the man’s expectations. 

Jensen knows that they’re worried about him in combat, that they see him as young and inexperienced and a geek, a liability. A tech often gets left behind at safe houses, or on the perimeter like snipers, but this mission requires the he be the one to get the information out of the target. The SIC growls at him as he passes on the way to the door, annoyed at having a team member that Roque assumes can’t pull his weight. If only they knew, Jensen thinks. Getting shot at is the least of his worries. 

He just ignores it as he climbs into the backseat. It’s still a couple hours to their new target and then they separate, leaving the Hummer at the first rendezvous. When Cougar heads off to find the vantage point, Jensen almost tries to follow instinctively. It doesn’t occur to him until just that moment to worry about the sniper, about any of the others. What was there to worry about when he’s the danger?

They wait until Cougar radios in that he’s in position before the rest move out. Roque and Clay head out together, clearing a path and securing the perimeter so that Pooch and Jensen can punch right into the building. 

Jensen shoulders his rifle and falls in line behind Pooch, reminding himself to run at a normal speed. Most of the guards fall away before he aims, though he can’t tell which Loser is taking them down. It’s easy enough to get into the building and there are only a few men inside that Pooch takes out quickly before Jensen gets there.  
It’s enough to have him chuckling. He’s the genetically engineered soldier and he barely even has to do anything. 

Jensen is still smiling when they find the servers and Pooch incautiously rolls his eyes before standing guard at the door. Leaning his gun down, Jensen leans over the computer and begins to hunt down the information. Clay thinks that he’s copying it, but it would only put them all at risk.

Suddenly the building shakes. “Fuck,” Pooch gripes. “Hurry it up, will ya?”

“Computers run as fast as they run,” Jensen yells over the noise as he watches the bar slowly filling with green. “And this, my friend, is a piece of shit computer. I could build better than this with a couple of paper clips and an old officer printer. Please…”

“Are you seriously talking right now?” Pooch turns to yell at him. 

It’s only a momentary lapse in attention, but it’s enough for a man to come up behind Pooch. Jensen has no choice and he jumps, moving almost faster than the human eye can see even when Pooch is staring right at him. He’s on top of the man before a single shot can get off and it’s a simple twist of his hands for the man to drop. Pooch doesn’t say anything, just stares with wide surprised eyes when Jensen stands up. But then the building shakes again, hard enough for them both to be  
thrown to the ground. 

Jensen covers Pooch as best he can. He’s not invincible by any means, but he heals a little faster than the average human, is a little more impervious to the block of cement that falls on his back. Gritting his teeth, Jensen is at least thankful that there isn’t time for any questions as he stands rocks and dust falling off of him. They need to get out now. He hurries back to the computer, only then realizing that he left his gun against the wall. He could have just fucking shot the man, he realizes, but it’s too late. The servers have been erased and the backups so he takes the gun and shoots the stupid thing just to be sure. 

“Let’s go,” Pooch says, but his eyes linger on Jensen before he moves. 

Jensen takes off after the other man, ducking pieces of ceiling as they rush through the corridors. The sun assaults them after the dark interior, but Jensen can see enough to know that Clay and Roque are pinned down behind a couple of cars, while men with small rockets are hiding in the tree line. He manages to shoot a couple as he and Pooch stay half-hidden in the doorway. 

Pooch is signaling to Clay when a shot goes past Jensen’s ear and he knows this time that it was Cougar. Laughing almost involuntarily, he makes a sign of OK with his right hand to the sniper. He’s still got his hand up when a man jumps out from behind the building and Jensen’s hand flies out, grabbing the man by the neck without thinking. Jensen snaps the guy’s neck with one hand. He knows even as he does it that Cougar can see him. But no one else does and so Jensen uses his  
considerable strength to simply throw the now lax body away. 

Clay stands up and motions them onward and Jensen goes readily. There are still men out there, but not enough to really be a hindrance to their getaway. By the time they make it to the Hummer, Cougar is running up as well, his rifle stowed away again and bouncing on his back. 

Cougar’s eyes are bright as he jumps in before Jensen, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t start spouting accusations. He simply watches blatantly as Jensen closes the door just before Pooch is kicking up dirt and speeding away. Jensen gets the feeling that Cougar is saving it up, arranging his thoughts or something until they can be alone. It’s a nice gesture, Jensen admits to himself, even though it’s pointless.

“Well, like usual,” Clay starts as he braces himself against the door, “that went worse than planned.”

Pooch lets out a whoop and slaps the wheel. “Yeah, but I think we might’ve actually found a tech in Jensen, colonel. Kept his head, even saved my ass.”

Jensen actually colors at the praise. His enhancements actually saved Pooch, but the mechanic doesn’t seem concerned about that, like he’s convinced himself that he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at all. Jensen giggles and the only one who looks at him strangely is Cougar. 

He doesn’t think Pooch would appreciate it if he did know, considering that they’re all about to find out how Jensen has been lying this whole time. They’re all waiting for him to make some kinda joke, some random comments, but they won’t come. His brain just stutters around as memories begin to flicker through. Last time…last time, he couldn’t save anyone. He remembers the heat and fire on his face, screaming as he was dragged away. As an operative, he may have failed but the target died all the same. 

He’s supposed to blow up the Hummer and be picked up by his handlers. There are explosives in his tak vest, in his duffel bag, even in his laptop. It would only take a flick of the wrist and he would jump out, leaving the rest of them to a fiery death. It would be easy, but he’s frozen in his seat, his arms stiff by his sides. Cougar has turned in his seat to stare at him as he stays silent.

The words won’t come because he’s too busy stifling the urge to confess everything that’s jamming up his throat. They’re watching him, Manticore. He knows that they wouldn’t plant the additional explosive in his bag so where would it be? Frantically, he looks around the Jeep, trying to think. He’s breathing faster and he wonders wildly if Cougar can smell his fear like the man’s namesake. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. He has no idea what he might be apologizing for. Maybe he’s apologizing more to himself than to these men. “I’d love to stay,” he chuckles a little breathlessly, “be the tech for you guys.”

“Great,” Pooch says. “Clay can pull some springs…”

Jensen can’t help stopping his search to look up, waiting for the colonel to answer. “I don’t have a lot of favors left,” Clay starts gruffly. “But if I were you, I would start packing my stuff for a permanent transfer.”

“Jesus, all we need is some geek to look after…” Roque growls, spoiling the moment. 

But Roque’s criticism doesn’t spoil anything for Jensen. He knows exactly where the bomb is, he realizes. “These three, has it been three days? Anyway, I had fun…good, good memories. That matters, right? Having memories to take with you when you…?” he asks them. 

“What is he talking about now?” Roque says, angrily. 

But Cougar’s voice is the only thing that Jensen hears, Cougar is the only one who seems to understand. “Who are you?” the sniper asks. 

“I can’t tell,” Jensen whispers. “Just forget about me after this. Forget about the whole thing.”

He reaches down under his own seat, easily pulling out the device. It’s still got a few seconds to count down. Cougar’s breath gasps sharply and then they’re all looking at him, but Jensen is already moving away, falling out the door of the speeding Hummer.

He just didn’t anticipate Cougar throwing himself out too. 

Cougar lands a few yards away and Jensen can already hear the Hummer squealing to a stop. Any plan he had to hold onto the device is ruined with them all so near and he’s up on his feet, throwing it far away. He knows that a bomb won’t be all the backup that Manticore planned. 

“What in the fuck are you doing, Jensen?” Clay roars, hanging out of the door. 

“Well, I was trying to save your asses til you all ruined it!” Jensen yells even as the first bullets start flying. 

Jensen knows it’s not him that they’re trying to shoot. The rest of the losers scramble behind the Hummer for cover as they go for their weapons, but Cougar is there in the open. Jensen is on top of the smaller man in an instant. Cougar is staring at him with wide dark eyes and Jensen can’t be sure what he sees in their depths.  
They look just like the eyes of the first man they killed back when Jensen was not more than eight years old. He remembers the horror in those eyes as they ran him down. 

Jensen gets to his knees, keeping Cougar blocked by his larger body. He tracks the men in the trees and suddenly feels a kind of elation. They’re all just human and for the first time, Jensen feels powerful. 

He’s about to stand when agonizing pain brings him back down on top of Cougar. It takes him a second for his brain to realize that the pain is coming from his barcode, something must be back there, some kind of tag…

Jensen’s thoughts skitter away as the pain has him writhing again. He’s barely conscious enough to realize two Range Rovers speeding in, blocking the Losers off from him. No, not just him, blocking Cougar’s escape too. 

“Nooo,” he moans out, barely coherent as he tries to push away from the other man. It feels like his throat is still constricted from pain. “Get away…don’t want you.”

It’s too late though as Jensen is hauled off of the other man and shoved onto the floor in the back of the Range Rover. Then Cougar is pushed in too, still struggling as he’s tied up and forced to sit between two men. Cougar’s eyes are slitted now as he struggles, but the handlers are already jamming a needle into the sniper’s shoulder. 

Cougar slowly goes limp, hat falling off of his head as he slumps to the floor beside Jensen. It’s the last thing Jensen sees before the pain takes away his sight.  
****************************

Cougar comes to slowly, keeping still as he tries to remember exactly what happened. He remembers the mission, but more memorable was their strange new tech. Techs are often a little extrano but not like this one. In flashes, he sees again Jensen grabbing that man’s throat, lifting him off the ground. Then he remembers the bomb, Jensen thrashing in pain. 

Controlling the sudden urge to breathe faster, Cougar opens his eyes to slit, but it’s quickly apparent that he’s alone except for Jensen still unconscious next to him. They’re in the back of some kind of vehicle, going over rough ground from the feel of it. Cougar’s hands are bound in front of him but there are no other restraints. It’d be easy to break, but there’s no way to exit the truck. Better not to make trouble until he has an exit. 

Instead, he looks down at Jensen’s sprawled lanky form as he wiggles to sit up against one wall. Jensen’s glasses are gone and he’s been redressed in grey sweatpants and tshirt. Cougar frowns vaguely. It doesn’t bode well for how long they’ve been unconscious. And he knows without looking that he’s still wearing his own clothes unlike Jensen. 

Studying the other man, Cougar finds it hard to believe that Jensen is a spy but there’s no other explanation. Jensen seems so young, strangely proficient in the heat of a mission but manic and naïve the rest of the time. He supposes that that is what makes Jensen a good spy, but Cougar sets his jaw at the anger that burns through him at the idea of the danger in the midst of his team. 

The motion of the car shifts Jensen’s lax body into Cougar’s thigh, the grey tshirt riding up Jensen’s stomach, exposing sharp hipbones and cut muscles leading beneath the sweatpants. Cougar can still remember the feel of the other man beneath his hand, the way Jensen moved underneath him. He doesn’t believe Jensen seduced him, but Cougar is still pissed that he didn’t realize Jensen was lying. He still feels betrayed. But it still doesn’t make sense, what Jensen said to them, to him at the end. That bomb could have killed them all, was presumably meant to clean up any loose ends. Was it Jensen who suddenly changed his mind?

Suspicious, Cougar keeps still as the vehicle comes to a stop. He doesn’t struggle as they pull him out, instead concentrating on his surroundings to get information. The first thing he notices is that the trees are different. This is a forest, not a jungle and he wonders again how long he was out. A hard push has him stumbling forward. 

He’s flanked by two guards who are each larger than Roque, overconfident and acting as if he’s not even a threat. He’d be insulted, but it seems most of the guns are still trained on the vehicle. Then he sees Jensen dragged out in front of him. The lanky body is still limp, hanging between two more guards who hold him up under his armpits. The tips of the tech’s shoes drag in the dirt as they enter some kind of military compound, more like Guantanamo than an Army base though. The perimeter is solid concrete and surrounded by an electrified fence and there are guard towers stationed at regular intervals. What’s inside the perimeter is even stranger. 

There is what seems to be a platoon practicing drills in a large outdoor space. But it’s a platoon of children, not yet fifteen probably. They don’t even look over at him as Cougar stares at them. It is not as if he has never seem child soldiers, but never an army of practiced white children, not children with such deadly precision. Cougar tries to slow down as he realizes that many of the boys are blonde and pale, tall and broad, built very much like Jensen with his same jaw and plump lips. 

He picks up his feet as he gets hit in the back with the butt of a rifle, trying not to stumble across the threshold. The building is a maze of dark, silent hallways of individual cells with guards patrolling each corridor. Many of the cells have eyes peering out from the food slots, large doe eyes that stare out at him with desperation. It’s like something out of one of his Nana’s stories, captured children waiting for the evil witch… 

But nothing is as bad as what they come across next, what seems like a medical ward, rows of crisp white beds filled with pale miserable patients. Some are young as in about Jensen’s age and they stare at him with dead eyes, but some are children who look over at him with hope, hope for relief that isn’t coming. Cougar sucks in a horrified breath as he catches sight of one at the back…it doesn’t even look human, like a werewolf caught mid-transformation. 

They have to drag him from that room when Cougar stops dead to stare, an overwhelming feeling of wrong, of brujeria sliding down his back like a deluge of ice water. Suddenly fearful, he looks toward Jensen who still isn’t struggling, still defenseless. Forgetting his feelings of betrayal, Cougar’s afraid for Jensen, afraid of what they’ve already done to Jensen. 

Cougar thinks of resisting when he’s finally dragged into a small room with medical equipment. They’re already strapping Jensen into a reclining chair in the middle of the room, like a dentist’s chair. He’s still staring when Jensen suddenly wakes up with a giant inhale of breath. In the next breath, Jensen is struggling despite that he’s already mostly restrained. 

“No, no, no, no,” Jensen begs, panting and trying to yank his long limbs out of the guards’ hands. But the men don’t even acknowledge the tech, acting like he’s not even there much less begging them. 

Jensen doesn’t look dangerous now, not like a person who could snap someone’s neck one-handed as he struggles futilely, his face anguished. He looks young and terrorized and defeated. And then his blue eyes catch Cougar’s. 

“Why is he here?” Jensen asks, still staring at him. 

Cougar doesn’t know how he should feel right then, but he hates the burn of sympathy that’s creeping up his throat. Whatever’s going to happen, Jensen’s already experienced it, already knows intimately about this place. Cougar can only watch as Jensen and the question are ignored by everyone, even as the blue eyes are looking around the room, trying to plead with anyone who will respond to him. But the guards merely step away. 

“What’s gonna happen to him? Are the others here?” Jensen snarls. He pulls up on his restraints then and the whole chair groans. It makes Cougar’s breath catch in his throat at the strength exhibited. 

A man in a lab coat walks up to Jensen, checking the straps, but he momentarily gives attention to Jensen. “You disobeyed orders,” lab coat guy says. “You were supposed to kill them.”

Cougar barely notices as a chair is being dragged into the room until he’s been shoved down into it. His arms are strapped to the arm rests and his legs to the chair legs, and finally a gag is shoved in his mouth despite that he hasn’t said anything to Jensen. But Cougar doesn’t bother struggling. As much as he hates it, he can’t run and leave Jensen behind and at their mercy. 

All he can do is watch as Jensen tosses his head, fruitlessly trying to prevent the man from putting electrodes to his forehead. It’s only then that Cougar realizes that Jensen is wearing the same uniform as the platoon of kids outside, the same as the things in the medical beds. This isn’t torture to extract information. It doesn’t even seem to be about punishing Jensen the way that Jensen is being ignored. 

“Hey, you can’t just restart me like a car battery!” Jensen snarls, dragging Cougar’s attention back. “I’m not actually a cyborg, you know. You don’t,” Jensen trails off, throwing his head back against the headrest. “Just kill me. Kill me! Don’t…”

Jensen’s words are cut off then as a mouthguard is shoved between his teeth. Immediately, he’s being shocked, electricity running through Jensen’s long limbs as they go painfully rigid, his back frozen in a painful arch above the chair. It just goes on and on and Cougar is struggling against his bonds without even realizing. Jensen may have been a spy but this, whatever this is, is unconscionable.

Cougar barely registers when one of the guards hits him in the face, stunning him and stopping his struggles. He hangs his head down as if unconscious as he listens to the proceedings, not wanting to watch anymore as it seems they really are trying to short out Jensen’s brain with that much electricity.

“Maybe this one is just defective,” he hears.

“Maybe there’s too much human DNA in the mix,” someone else laughs. 

“We’ll continue until we break him. Several of them have been willful and we can’t afford to just lose that many experiments, not the X-5s.”

“These things are fucking dangerous even with the barcodes.”

Cougar slowly pulls himself upright when he hears the sound of Jensen’s heavy body hitting the chair with a thump. He tries to sort out what exactly he’s heard.  
Experiments, that’s the word he hones in on. These children are some kind of experiment, Jensen is…

Now the lab coats have Jensen hooked up to some kind of IV even though the electrodes are still on his head. Jensen’s limp again on the chair, but he shivers and twitches, his body out of his control. Jensen’s eyes are open but empty. He’s not fighting back anymore, as his head is positioned with his chin in some kind of brace. And there’s a laser pointing into Jensen’s right pupil.

Once situated, there is a nod and with a simple press of a button, Jensen is making some kind of choking sound. His body bucks suddenly against his bonds again and then Cougar sees a stream of blood, bright red flowing from Jensen’s right nostril. The lab coats don’t even bother wiping it away. They’re not even watching Jensen, instead focusing on some kind of monitor, writing notes on clipboards and checking the IV. Jensen is gasping and struggling mindlessly and it’s just horrifically mundane. 

The moment is broken when some kind of explosion rocks the building. Cougar wants to crow. Even he’s impressed by how fast the rest of the Losers tracked them down. The first explosion is apparently just a warm-up because the next one is much bigger, practically throwing the men in lab coats to the floor as they start scrambling around. 

The guards are immediately at the door, opening it to the sound of a lot of yelling and gunfire. The guards are gone, but the lab coats stay in the room, looking entirely unsure what to do, whether to stop what they’re doing. It doesn’t seem like any of them are more than just research scientists and uninvolved in the running of this facility. 

It’s not until there’s screaming somewhere near their door that they spring into action. Cougar is surprised to see that they’re actually releasing Jensen, removing the laser and IV. Jensen’s still trembling, eyes still unfocused and faraway as he’s pulled up from the bed and roughly pushed towards the door. Cougar shifts, slamming his chair to the ground on one side to get the tech’s attention.

The door bursts open and Cougar tenses, ready to find a way to escape, but he’s stunned when Jensen sends the attacker to the ground with one blow. A second ago,  
Jensen looked like he could barely stand, but as soon as the threat is there Jensen is pure fluid action. The doorway is a bottle neck and it’s easy to take out each trespasser one by one. Cougar can only despair that Jensen has in fact been rebooted and he stays still, suddenly not wanting to attract attention until the team can find him. 

Pushing another unconscious attacker out of the door, Jensen sags against the nearest wall, resting as the explosions continue to be heard outside their little room. There’s no information about what’s happening out there and the men in lab coats are no help as they cower against the wall. 

They all startle when the door bursts open again and Cougar just has time to realize that it’s Roque before Jensen’s hand is wrapped around Roque’s throat the throat. Jensen lifts the big man off of feet that twitch in the suddenly empty air. Roque is gasping, hands grabbing at Jensen’s implacable wrist when Jensen stops, cocking his head like a dog hearing something in the distance. 

“Finish him!” one of the lab coated men screams in fear. 

But Jensen is still paying more attention to something else in the distance and then Cougar hears it. It’s Clay’s voice calling for Cougar, and for Jensen. The boss’s voice alone seemingly stays Jensen’s hand until the man himself can burst into the room. 

Clay immediately raises his weapon when he sees inside the little room which only makes Jensen lift Roque higher up the wall. Cougar tries to call out underneath the gag as he sees the standoff. But Cougar’s efforts are ignored as after a moment, Clay lowers his weapon and holds up one hand, trying to diffuse the situation rather than escalating it. 

“Whoa, Jensen, what’s going on?” the boss says, gently. 

Cougar can’t see Jensen’s face, but Jensen doesn’t seem to respond at all to Clay, and instead, squeezes Roque’s throat until the desperate gasps are cut off entirely. 

“Jensen, stand down!” Clay orders loudly. 

For whatever reason, it’s the order that registers through the fog of whatever they did to Jensen. Roque is suddenly dropped to the floor. It surprises everyone including Roque whose knees buckle before he can catch himself on the wall. But Jensen makes no other sign of recognizing them, no other sign of still being Jensen. He doesn’t speak which is the most worrying. 

Cougar is jerked out of those thoughts when suddenly his chair is being grabbed and a gun is pressed to his temple. He bites down on the gag in disgust at being the captive, at being a pawn to this idiota.

“Stop right there,” the voice comes from behind Cougar. “You kill them or I kill this one.”

Cougar is pulled out of thoughts of his own situation when Jensen spins around, his face still bloody and showing a viciousness that Cougar would not have believed possible when he first met the younger man. But then the mask breaks and suddenly Cougar can see that young man again, see that desperate anguished hope. It’s all the emotions that Cougar saw on his face before he leaped from the Jeep and Cougar is only beginning to understand. 

The muzzle presses harder into his head and Cougar keeps his face still as he stares back at Jensen without entreaty. He doesn’t want to die here in this infierno.

“You can’t get to him in time,” the man behind him is saying. “Not even an X-5 can get me before I take the shot.”

Jensen’s whole face crumples and Cougar is so focused on him that he’s surprised when Roque just conks Jensen over the head with the butt of his rifle. Suddenly the pressure on the side of his head is gone, and then so is Jensen. It is as if Jensen disappears like a ghost in the middle of falling over from the blow. 

Instead there’s a crash from behind him. Cougar can’t turn around, can’t see what’s happening. Instinctively, he struggles against his bonds though he knows he can’t get free until he hears a gunshot. 

“I’m the animal that you made me,” Jensen’s voice is soft but easily heard in the sudden quiet and then there’s the sound of something being banged against the ground repeatedly, something cracking open.

His attention is taken away when Pooch finally unties him. Cougar is turning around even as he pulls the gag from his mouth. It’s not a surprise at this point to see Jensen kneeling over the man’s body, face unrecognizable with blood and brain matter a mess around them. But Cougar stares at the guilty yet proud look on Jensen’s bloody face. 

“Jensen!” Clay shouts. “Move it. Now!”

Cougar just has a moment to see pure relief flood those eyes before Roque is pushing the blonde ahead. Following, Cougar grabs the gun that Pooch hands him and takes up the rear. Outside of their tiny room, the facility is a mess. Light fixtures are hanging off the ceiling, doors are thrown open, blood spattered on the walls.  
Most of the guards are dead and Cougar doesn’t give them a passing thought, but mostly the kids are missing or any others wearing the grey sweatsuits like Jensen. 

“Who did this?” Cougar growls to Pooch running beside him. 

“No idea,” Pooch says casually. “Seemed like more than one team and not all on the same side.”

Pooch runs around a corner, cutting off further communication. Outside, the courtyard is empty too and then they’re running through the woods. Cougar thinks that he sees a couple of kids, those eyes peering at him again, but they’re gone before he can say anything. He wonders what happened to all of them. 

Pooch is pulling a cover off of their Jeep now and then they pile in. Jensen is squished between Cougar and Roque as if by some unspoken agreement. Better to keep the guy surrounded, though Cougar’s not at all sure what he feels, betrayal and sympathy and loyalty all twisted up in his mind. 

The drive through the woods is silent and clearly uncomfortable. He thinks about asking where exactly they’ve been transported to, but it’s clear that they’re miles from where Cougar remembers last and it doesn’t actually matter anyway. He sees Clay wiping his hand over his face in the passenger seat, obviously overwhelmed.  
Jensen is silent which still feels strange, as if that other Jensen was a lie, a trick. But Cougar can see the man’s long fingers tapping against a grey-clad thigh so at least Jensen hasn’t gone empty again.

They pull out of the woods and then it’s a short trip before they’re slowing, pulling up at a military base. Cougar notices that they’re somewhere in Washington state as he pulls out his ID and the guard doesn’t even notice that Jensen doesn’t have one. 

Once inside the gate, it’s a matter of moments until the car is parked and they’re all piling out. Easily, the others all surround Jensen, tacitly marching him through the base. Cougar lets his sniper’s eyes scan the surroundings for threats or escapes. They look like a simple team transferred here temporarily for a mission, but in reality they’re all on edge and aware, hands hovering over their holstered guns. 

As soon as they’re inside the common room of an empty barracks, the animosity boils over. Guns are immediately drawn. Roque circles so that he’s directly in front of Jensen, the gun aimed at Jensen’s forehead. 

“Wha’d’we do with him now, Clay?” Pooch asks, obviously tense. 

Clay sighs heavily, but then he lowers his own gun. Casually, the boss leans on the edge of the desk, getting comfortable and acting as if they’re not suddenly holding guns on their baby-faced tech, on one of their own. Jensen looks harmless again, but Cougar takes a step to the left, blocking the door. 

Cougar grits his teeth to keep in his own questions, his own words. He doesn’t talk much, doesn’t have a lot to say since one too many missions went bad, but this one of the few times that he’s actually holding words back. He feels like he’s keeping a secret from the team now. 

He can’t imagine how the fact that he and Jensen fucked has any bearing on this, but it still eats at him. They won’t care that he’s gay, not the Losers, and they’d back him up if anyone ever made a complaint. But he never talks about it. Why should he? It’s not like who he fucks affects his job. He came to grips with his sexuality a long time ago and it’s not like he was ever going to have a wife and family anyway, not with the things that keep him up at night. 

He tells himself that this isn’t any different. He didn’t give Jensen any information, didn’t get any information just because they fucked. But right now, the beautiful curve of Jensen’s back underneath him keeps flashing behind his eyelids. Cougar knows that his emotions are getting in the way. 

Finally the boss moves, as if he’s let Jensen stew long enough. Clay picks up a file from the desk and holds it out toward Jensen. “We know that you’re not Corporal Jake Jensen. So what’s your name?” Clay asks. 

“X5-621,” Jensen starts listing some kind of serial number. 

“No,” Clay says, throwing the file at the floor. “Not whatever serial number that fucked up place gave you. We know that Corporal Jensen is dead. Did you kill him?”

“Yes,” Jensen says immediately, not trying to deflect at all. 

The answer has all of them shifting awkwardly. None of them expected him to admit with no explanation or excuse. Clay’s face draws down in to a frown. 

“What’s your name?” Clay asks slowly, his voice telling them all that he’s run out of patience with the man who has apparently betrayed them. 

“I don’t have one, sir,” Jensen answers, looking vaguely uncomfortable. It’s like he knows that it’s strange, but he doesn’t really understand. 

Silence falls over them again. Each answer is more unexpected and it catches them off guard. Cougar was the only one who saw what happened in that facility and too many thought run through his head. Thinking about Jensen’s rigid body as he was shocked, Cougar wonders if they took whatever life away from the man in front of him, made him just forget. 

Clay’s voice is softer, more conversational as he asks, “So what was that place?”

“Manticore is a secret government facility to experiment with splicing human and animal DNA. Get it? Manticore?” Jensen suddenly becomes animated, like before  
and it only makes Cougar more confused about what the man’s true personality is. “The mythical creature with a lion’s body and human heads, maybe a scorpion’s tail…”

“Fascinating,” Roque snaps. “So what does that make you?”

“I’m the experiment,” Jensen says with shame on his guileless face. Every emotion seems to pass visibly over his young face and it makes it hard to imagine it all being fake. “I’m a…combination of human and feline DNA. We’re all marked,” he lifts his hand then to rub over the back of his neck. “X-5 is the fifth experiment, and the first that worked.”

“Cat DNA?” Pooch asks, his gun wavering as it is just too easy to believe the naïve act. “What the fuck does that do to you?”

Jensen laughs a little and rubs his hand now over his forehead. He’s sweating a little Cougar notices. But Clay waves off Pooch’s questions in favor of his own. 

“So what’s going on? What was that bomb and everything back there?” Clay asks. 

Jensen’s laugh turns darker. “You want to know if you can trust me? Well, it looks like Manticore is kaput so it’s not like I’d go back to them. Not like I wanted to go back anyway.” Jensen wipes at his forehead again and Cougar swears that the man’s hand shakes. “Look, they needed to prevent that information from getting out, and you all were just collateral damage. ” 

“They said you were a mistake?” Cougar speaks up suddenly. “That you rebelled because you didn’t kill us.”

“I killed that guy, ok?” Jensen says, his voice suddenly harsh and breathing audible. “I killed…others, since we were just kids. We were supposed to be Special Forces teams, like yours. But the military didn’t trust us,” Jensen breaks off there with a sharp hand motion. “I’ve been trained since birth. I should have let the bomb detonate and kill you. But I-I guess that I don’t follow orders that well. It’s different out here. I liked it, I liked…you guys.”

“Jensen, what’s wrong?” Clay asks outright the question that Cougar’s been thinking. He’s relieved to hear Clay also still referring to…the experiment as Jensen, a name that was stolen. 

Jensen is shaking, sweating, and his blue eyes are beginning to go unfocused. Even as the question is asked, Jensen stumbles back into the wall behind him, followed by Roque and Pooch’s guns. 

“It’s our defect,” Jensen says, somehow still managing to sound self-deprecating while in obvious distress. “Seizures,” he says, sounding like he’s having to forcibly unstuck his tongue. “Need tryptophan, we don’t…goat’s milk, need.”

Cougar takes a step forward but stops. He’s still not sure what might be a trap. He thinks the idea of Jensen being that great of a spy, of this whole obnoxious personality being a lie is ridiculous, but…Jensen has had a lifetime to work on it. Or he had a lifetime hoping to escape. 

Jensen slowly and purposefully sinks down the wall, but once sitting, he suddenly freezes. The others aren’t sure whether to put down their guns but Clay moves into action, pulling Jensen further from the wall by his leg. Cougar is there an instant later, though the lanky body has already begun jerking uncontrollably. He takes off his overshirt to try and cushion Jensen’s head at the very least. Cougar flinches at the sound of Jensen’s arm impacting the hard floor, but he knows there is nothing to be done, getting in the way will only hurt him and Jensen. 

“Well, at least we know he wasn’t lying about that,” Pooch murmurs, finally dropping his gun as they all decide it’s not a trick. 

“Go get him some milk,” Clay suddenly orders. 

Pooch looks surprised as Clay focuses on him from where the boss is crouched on the floor. Slowly, Pooch holsters his gun. “Goats milk, seriously?” he asks. 

Clay just nods as his eyes are once again on the man still seizing. “Once it stops, we’ll move him to the bed.”

Cougar thinks about the size of those beds, small singles and lifts an expressive eyebrow.

“We’ll push two together,” Clay says quickly because just then Jensen’s body is relaxing, eyes slipping fully closed. “C’mon, help me get’im up.”

Even Roque bends down to help but as soon as Clay’s hands touch Jensen, the younger man is flinching and pulling away, his movements seeming heavy and slow with the lethargy that weighs him down after the seizure. 

“No!” Jensen cries out desperately, trying to pull his arms away from Clay’s ministrations. “Don’t punish me. Don’t…” Jensen swallows, his eyes opening slowly and  
Cougar can see they’re unfocused. “I can get back to training.”

Considering Jensen’s strength, Cougar’s concerned about the consequences of him being disoriented. He hesitates, but Clay doesn’t. The older man grabs Jensen under the armpits, pulling him up like he’s a child. But as soon as Jensen gets on his feet, he’s throwing himself back against the wall with a whimper. 

Cougar can’t stand it then as he suddenly thinks of those children in the yard, in the medical beds. He has to move closer, his hand gentle where it strokes Jensen’s arm. “Jensen,” he says softly, not knowing what else to say. 

Jensen’s eyes focus as much as he can at that point and drift between Cougar, Cougar’s hand and Clay who is moving in again, taking Jensen’s other arm. The boss’s expression goes a little soft and a little curious as he looks at Jensen and then at Cougar. At another time, it would be enough to make Cougar back off, but not this time. 

Stumbling, Jensen moves with them to the bedroom, suddenly meek as he realizes where he is. Unfortunately, they’ve barely settled him on the bed when his breathing gets loud and labored again. It hasn’t been thirty minutes and Cougar doubts that there’s goat milk in the base’s commissary which means that Pooch had  
to go off base for it. 

Clay’s turning Jensen over onto his side when his hand is suddenly grabbed by the distraught man. “I’m s-sorry,” Jensen stutters out.

There isn’t time to respond as suddenly Jensen is arching again. Cougar is suddenly angry, angry at whoever this Manticore is that would experiment on humans, creating children for the sole purpose of making soldiers. Cougar can feel whatever suspicion he had draining away from him even as he tries to catch it. There’s something about Jensen that makes the tech hard to distrust, even if he believes all of this crazy shit, that Jensen has been kept like a rat, like a monkey to be experimented on and punished like a dog. 

It’s horrifying to contemplate and it’s showing in the boss’s eyes as Cougar looks up from Jensen’s body finally. Clay’s got that frown on his face, sympathy in his dark eyes. None of them like to be helpless and that’s what they are, helpless to help Jensen until Pooch gets back, and more than that helpless to change the past. 

This seizure seems to take even longer and Cougar sees Roque check his watch surreptitiously though the big man stands further away. But even when it ends,  
Jensen doesn’t rest. His thick eyelashes flutter on his cheeks and he shivers. He looks almost like a sleepy child and Cougar swallows thickly himself as he thinks of Jensen like this in one of those medical beds as a child, desperate not to seem weak. 

Cougar takes an incautious step forward and Jensen turns toward him. His throat works and Cougar winces and hopes for the milk to be here soon even as Jensen is trying to push himself up on shaking arms. 

“Cougar, I dinn’t-it wasssn’t…the mission,” Jensen slurs the apology he’s trying to make. 

Cougar doesn’t look at any of the rest of the team though he realizes that the cat is out of the bag now. He carefully puts his hand back on Jensen’s forearm. Jensen stares at his hand like it’s got the face of Jesucristo himself on it until finally he looks up at Cougar’s face. 

Cougar manages a small smile and then Pooch is bursting into the room, small green carton of milk clenched in his fist. Pooch’s eyes scan the room suspiciously, as if he’s expecting that the whole thing was a fake. Cougar glares at him, feeling uncharacteristically protective of the tech. 

Pooch definitely looks put out as he steps forward with the box. But Pooch stays at the end of the bed. Clay steps to get the carton and then Cougar reaches for it and finally it passes to Jensen himself. Jensen’s arms shake like an earthquake though, and it seems impossible that he’s going to be able to open it, much less drink out of it. Finally, Cougar takes the carton away, opening it and then sitting on the bed facing Jensen. 

Cougar tries not to get caught up in bright blue disbelieving eyes as he gently cradles the back of Jensen’s neck with one hand, supporting Jensen’s head as he lifts the carton to bitten-red lips. Jensen hesitates, but only for a second before he’s gulping the milk down desperately. Jensen’s hand lands hesitantly on top of Cougar’s knee sitting on the bed, but when Cougar does nothing more than stroke the soft hair at the base of Jensen’s skull with his thumb, then Jensen’s hand becomes a clamp, desperately squeezing. 

When Jensen finally turns his face away, there’s a thin stream of milk running from the corner of his lips. Cougar’s own lips twitch before Jensen’s fist wipes it away. Jensen looks embarrassed of his weakness but his hand hasn’t yet moved from Cougar’s knee, not until Pooch speaks. 

“Now what?” Pooch asks, sarcasm dripping. “What do we do with him now? He was sent to infiltrate us and we’re just going to turn him loose?”

Jensen’s hand is off of Cougar’s knees like he’s been burned and he ducks his face away, jaw working. Cougar is torn. He wants to comfort Jensen, but even as he thinks that it isn’t Jensen’s fault, Pooch is still right. Jensen is dangerous even if he is just what he has been made by others. 

What Cougar is not expecting is for Roque to speak up. “It’d certainly be useful to have somebody that fast on our team. And he’s a good tech,” he says casually, like anything Roque does is casual. 

Cougar looks up in time to see Clay shifting his weight with a pensive expression. “He has a point. We can’t exactly release him into the public and I don’t want to simply give him back as an experiment.” 

Cougar knows the boss sees how Jensen flinches at the word experiment. But Clay keeps his face hard as he moves into Jensen’s eyesight. “This isn’t just a pass for everything you did. I’m gonna keep an eye on you.”

Jensen swallows again, looking like he’s not sure that he can believe what he’s hearing, looking suspicious of them and it almost makes Cougar has to stop himself from shaking his head in disbelief. But Clay waits until the younger man holds the eye contact with big doe eyes. Cougar is certain that the threat of pain won’t work against Jensen, but if his suspicions are correct, it’s the threat of losing this, losing his place on the team that’ll keep Jensen in line. 

The boss seals the deal by reaching down to grab Jensen’s bare ankle and giving the younger man a gentle shake. “Get some sleep,” Clay says in a quieter voice. “We’re gonna fly back to our base in the morning, get you settled in.”

Clay turns to leave and Roque laughs manically as he follows the boss out the door. Pooch huffs and leaves too, obviously uncomfortable with Jensen. They’ll have to deal with that later, Cougar thinks, remembering the words the lab coats said, that these things are dangerous. Jensen is dangerous, beyond even what they may be able to handle. 

Cougar isn’t sure what to do with himself. He never intended this to be more than one night, figured that the tech would go back to his desk afterward, and now…now things are more than complicated. But still he stays seated on the bed and doesn’t resist when Jensen’s huge hand is back on his knee. 

Keeping his eyes down, Cougar watches his own slim hand slide over the grey sweatpants until he’s clutching Jensen’s bony hip again, just like the other night. He remembers the eagerness that Jensen pressed back into him, rode him, what Cougar now recognizes as desperation after seeing that place. It’s his Achilles heel, Cougar knows, being needed. And he thinks that no one could need him more than someone who lived through that. 

Jensen’s lips are cracked and dry, but he opens to Cougar’s tongue immediately, moving frantically. It’s just as it was the first time, like Jensen doesn’t believe that he gets to have this but he’s going to lick up everything that Cougar gives him and more before it’s taken away. 

Still Jensen’s hands shake when they’re lifted to brush back Cougar’s hair. Jensen may want this, but what he really needs is sleep. After just having two seizures, Cougar is certain that anyone but a genetic experiment like Jensen would still be unconscious. It still boggles the mind to realize what Jensen is. 

“Hey,” Cougar rasps out. “Hey,” he says again when Jensen grips him harder, rebuffing what is seen as rejection. “You need to sleep.”

Jensen still doesn’t let go of his fierce grip, stares at him with sharp blue eyes. Cougar takes the initiative, pulling Jensen with him as he lies down on his back. It’s not ideal, Jensen is pretty much in the gap between beds already, but it’s good. Jensen curls into Cougar’s smaller body like a child seeking comfort, one hand across Cougar’s chest and gripping Cougar’s shoulder. Cougar can do nothing but give comfort, calmly rubbing the back of Jensen’s hand with his thumb. 

“Jake Jensen,” Cougar says, only now noticing how Jensen isn’t filling the quiet like he did before. He misses it and wonders whether that really was just all an act. “How is it for a name?”

Jensen’s fingers tighten their grip on Cougar, but then Jensen relaxes. “It’s good,” Jensen says, his voice getting more confident. “I like…that it’s mine. It lets me stay here.”

Cougar nods, not mentioning that that name once belonged to someone else. He thinks he should be more upset about that, upset about a soldier being killed where he should have been safe. But it’s hard to be indignant when he’s been sent on missions much the same. 

“I wonder where they all went,” Jensen says quietly when Cougar thinks the other man is already asleep. “I mean, they might…need help.”

Cougar frowns and curves his other arm over the dip of Jensen’s waist. Where did they all go and what havoc will they cause? He’s still trying to figure out what havoc Jensen will cause, to him, to the Losers, to the enemies of the United States. He’ll just have to wait and see. 

“Maybe I’ll keep this facial hair,” Jensen muses on a different topic. “Grow it out? It’d look good, right?”

Cougar growls at the interruption.


End file.
